


Of Roman Honor and Mages

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Series: Vesta's Hearth [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Challenge Response, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Just realized that there are fans of this everywhere, Mpreg, Multi, Old Writing, Why didn't I think of this before?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge Response. Alternate Universe. Harry gets thrown into Ancient Roman times while trying to find a cure for his pseudo-godfather Remus. He thanks his lucky stars that he practiced the language before he left! </p><p>Under a different name on FF. net since I didn't like how it fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Cure Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperEagle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperEagle/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, folks, yet another answer to a challenge! Bear with me and my nonsense. Canon except for the deaths in OotP and DH. Enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents! My mate down in Australia knows he's the driving force behind this one and was there until the end.

Marcus limped slowly to the entrance of the terrace that showed the wild grey sea and the pouring rain that made his knee ache fiercely. The pain was something he could handle; being discharged from the Legions was not. He stared moodily at his bracelet of valor. Such promise... And now he was a relic, discarded because he could no longer fight. His knee throbbed in time with the rain, making him wish for a miracle. Something, anything to drive away his pain and shame.

* * *

_**-Modern Day Britain; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-** _

_**-PoV-** _

Harry, or as he was now labelled by the tabloids "the Man Who Slayed the Dark Lord", was deeply concentrating on the Romulus Potion; a potential cure for the man he thought of as a second godfather. Snape, after being saved by Fawkes, was quieter than ever and, surprisingly, did not resent Harry any longer. When pressed for an explanation, the man answered consicely in his usual cool, silky voice, "You are more like your mother than you will ever know, Potter. At least your father did not taint her brightness too much." 

So, with much wrestling and verbal spats, Harry was now skimming through the copious amounts of Salazar Slytherin's Parseltongue Potions notes. Snape owned several such books, though how the man got them? He was going to leave that dog lying, thank you very much. He just translated what he read, using a very expensive Dicta-Quill. Of course, he'd had Snape check it over so that he didn't accidentally just rewrite the original Parseltongue. He was finished with that massive project... Finally. Salazar had invented a Potion to cure lycanthropy, several of which were very gruesome. He'd found the least bloody (as well as slightly sane) recipe and had looked far and wide for the ingredients. Brewing in the still-intact Potions classroom was easier than it had been in six years. Now in it's final stages, the potion was a beautiful mother-of-pearl, shimmering as it simmered.

"The last ingredient is- Some of the werewolf's hair? Human or wolf? Hmm... Professor?" He raised his voice only a little bit and felt, rather than heard, the man's silent presence now in the room.

"Yes, Potter? What on earth are you brewing?"

"The Romulus Potion, Professor. It says to use some of the werewolf's hair, but the-Wait, I was reading my translated version. Original says 'a hair from the wolf during the hieght of transformation. Let simmer until night of full moon, pluck hair, and then feed to wolf. Animagus is recommended with canine form.' Wow, Salazar was really detailed... Like he'd used this one before."

"I suppose so, Potter. We have your dogfather and his wolf is only crazy half the time."

"There's more, sir. 'No other suppressants may be used during this particular full moon. Could cause corruption of potion's integrity. I repeat, do not use other suppressants.' He must've run into a complication with them."

"Obviously, Potter, otherwise a Potions Master such as he would not document it otherwise." Harry chuckled dryly and took a casual step forward, the sleeve of his robe catching on the stirring rod, spilling the potion all over him. He gasped as everything went black.

**-PoV-**

Severus watched, horrified, as the potion spilled all over Lily's boy. Potter gasped and the area around the teen turned a frigtening shade of black. There was a popping noise and Lily's child was gone. Severus stepped carefully around the puddle of potion that was left and picked up a note in Potter's nearly illegible writing:

_Parseltongue is an ingrained ability. If you've spoken it before, you can understand it, read it, and best of all, speak it. If I die (or do somthing equally weird) against ol' Moldycrotch, ask Ginny or Ron to translate these notes._

_-Harry_

He pocketed the note and silently cast an Evanesco. That was the last he saw of Harry for the next three years...

_**-Roman-ruled Britannia; circa 140 A.D.-** _

_**-PoV-** _

Harry awoke slowly, every bone aching in his sore body.

"Urgh... What the hell was-Eep!" A spear slammed down into the ground in front of his face. "Whoa! Take it... Easy?" A Roman Legionnare's brown eyes bored into his own (apparently glasses free and his vision was 20/20) green. He switched languages real quick, since he and Hermione had been chatting casually in Latin for nearly a year now, scrambling upright in the process. "Ah, sorry about that."

"You've an accent." The monotone was a bit creepy.

"I'm a native, of course. My mothertongue is different."

"Ugh, a Britain."

"And a wizard, so be wary."

"Prove it." The man was severe, features harsh and craggy. Harry frowned as he checked (he was paranoid past caring whether or not he looked weird) for his survival kit. Whew, still there along with all his potions. He waved his hand and the Legionnare's spear hovered about two feet off the ground. With another, seemingly careless, wave, the spear landed in the man's hand. "Not enough."

"Do not mess in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger." Harry snarled, fed up with the man. "I shall prove such to you if you do not let me pass." 

The Legionnare's guard partner sized him up, apparently taking in his robes, the Gryffindor crest, the dirk strapped to his side and Gryffindor's sword. "Better listen; he is being truthful."

"Lies. He is a native, and as such, a natural liar." Harry silently used the Levicorpus spell on the man and shook him soundly before throwing the man down from six feet in the air. "Monster."

"No, Wizard."

**-PoV-**

Marcus gritted his teeth as the triumverate's son mocked his family name. His wounded knee was throbbing again, predicting more rain in a few hours. He sourly wished that the bastard sitting two seats in front and to the right of him would drown; but no such luck for him.

"What a shame, to lose the Eagle like that."

"You would mock my father's legacy?"

"What is there to mock, my dear boy? You obviously represent it." A crack sounded in the sudden silence, his fist through the solid oak table.

" _Never_ mock my family. I will return with the Eagle. I will restore my family's honor." Marcus hissed, his voice deadly soft.

"And that of Rome, I think."

"Silence. I did not ask for your words."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	2. Spinning a Tale for All to Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, things are going good in the world of the author. Enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait, I own my Muses! Ha!
> 
> WARNING: There is Slash, so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ!
> 
> P.S. READ ME FIRST! Harry will be refered to as Cian (remote in Gaelic) in later chapters. Harry is too casual and Hadrian (of which Harry could be a possible nickname) is far too Roman for the part he plays.

* * *

Cian sighed as he gently tugged on his Lybian stallion's lead. Cornix snorted as he dismounted, neighing sharply when the holster reached for his lead.

"Sa, sa Cornix." The stallion leveled him with a 'you expect me to go with this piece of offal?' look then sidled up against him.

"A fellow Briton? Rare you are nowadays beyond Hadrian's wall."

"Hmm, I travel regardless of creed, race, or religion."

"Romans are greatly afeared of a wizard 'round these parts. They say he's the very forest, come to wreak havoc upon them; a wee bit of exaggeration, I wouldn't wonder."

"No, quite right for once. I am him, you see. Cian's the name."

"Good e'en to ya then. I've a group of Romans hunkerin' down an' harassing m' servin' maids."

"And? What concern of it is mine? I'm here for a drink and a bed, not to solve your problem."

"Right selfish ya are."

"Hmph. I think I'm allowed to be." He shoved back his hood, revealing jewel-bright green eyes and a tumble of waist-length braided hair. The scars he'd earned over the past years showed visibly against his tan skin, especially the lightning bolt shaped one he'd gotten as a child. The man's eyes were drawn to it, even this far into the past. He growled lowly as he pulled his hood back up. "A Roman pub sounds better at this point. No bloody rude stares." He remounted, a sneer learned from Snape gracing his lips.

"Wait, they won't serve a Briton!"

"They'll serve me." He said levelly, tapping his boots to Cornix's flanks.

* * *

They eyed him warily but the maids served him drinks; as he paid as well as any other man. The Romans paid him no mind as he sat sipping his ale and watching them from beneath his hood. A drunken Legionnare stumbled into the chair in front of him, looking into the darkness that shrouded his face.

"Whas unner der?"

"You're drunk. Get out of my sight." Cian stood, picked up the man, and tossed him out into the freezing rain. "Sober up." He walked back to his chair, only to find it occupied by an arrogant centurion.

"What are you going to do with me, stranger?"

"This." With a martial arts move, he yoinked the chair back and relaxed into it as the man hit the floor with a grunt. "Barkeep, another ale."

"And why should I serve you, ruffian?"

"My gold pays as well as any others." He answered neutrally, kicking his boots up and onto the table in the ill-lit tavern. "Does it not?"

"I suppose so." The routund man motioned one of the maids over and Cian watched impassively as the barkeep slipped something into his drink. The maid smiled sweetly at him as she set down his ale.

"Would you like anything else sir?"

"My thanks, milady, but no." He stared at his ale, then back up at the owner, then back at his ale. "I am no fool." He pulled out a Poison-Neutralizer and dumped into his drink. The pale liquid frothed, turned a deep purple, and then back to normal. "Barkeep!" He barked, removing his boots from the table.

"Yessir?"

"Someone tried to _kill_ me." His tone was full of sub-zero fury, the table vibrating with his anger. "With nightshade; good thing I caught it in time, no? Would you be so kind as to point _him_ out?" His gloved hand shot out and grabbed the man's wrist as the man tried to escape. "I'm not a fool, sirrah. I _watched_ you put it in." The grip tightened, causing the leather and the man's wrist to creak ominously in the sudden silence.

"What did you do to his drink?" One of the sober Legionnares asked.

"He poisoned it. I am glad I am familiar with all types of nightshade; especially it's liquid form."

"Your kind should have died at birth."

"Now it's personal, is it? Just because you were born without my gift, you resent what you could have had?" He sneered and snapped the man's wrist up and to the right. "Hmph." He paid the maid as he made his way out to the stable. Cornix whickered as Cian remounted, as if to say 'what an idiot'. "Indeed."

_**-Over Hadrian's Wall-** _

_**-PoV-** _

Marcus allowed his horse to halt as Esca spoke once more with yet another native. The man had a hood on and a respectable horse, Lybian if he was any guess.

"A Roman? Why?" The Latin was thickly accented like Esca's but had a softer burr. They went back to speaking Briton at a rapid speed. "May I accompany you?"

"And you are?"

"Cian of the Magis." The man reached up with gloved hands and pulled back the hood, revealing a man of surprising beauty; soft black locks framed an elegant face, coral lips pulled into a half-smile. Bright green eyes met with his own steel grey and Esca's honey brown. Esca asked something in the heathen tongue and the man (Cian his mind supplied) laughed. The sound was bittersweet, as though it had been innocent once.

"No. I am not Fae." The reply was part Latin, part Briton.

"You would include him?"

"He is as we are, human, Esca. Just because he is of a different race means nothing to me."

"Nothing?" His slave launched into what was obviously a rant about Rome.

"Sa sa Esca. You are nearly as skittish as Cornix." The stallion half-reared, as though offended by the remark. "Cheeky beast. Marcus Flavius Aquila, I would be honored to join your quest to return the Eagle." He smiled ever so softly at him before turning his horse in with theirs.

**-PoV-**

Cian caught dinner that night, two hares and a quail. He skinned them, handing them off to Esca.

"What has you so upset over Rome?" He finally broached the apparently sore topic away from Marcus; Gaelic to put his new acquaintance at ease.

"His father killed mine; then the bastard spared my life in the amphitheater!"

"Tsk, tsk, holding such a grudge will only backfire."

"How would you know?"

"Such a tale is for the both of you, so I do not have to repeat myself."

* * *

A while later and they were dining on roast hare and bird. Esca finished his meal and Marcus followed soon after, looking at him expectantly. He doggedly finished his own dinner ignoring the burning stares directed at his pulled-up hood.

"Well?" Marcus asked, slightly irritated as he shifted in front of the fire.

"I should start from the beginning, I suppose."

"You'd make a terrible skald." Esca snorted, leaning back against a moss covered rock.

"Hmph. May I start now?"

"Yes." Both of them answered him, then glared at each other.

"A man was born, not just a man, but a wizard much like myself. His name was Tom Marvalo Riddle and he grew. He attended a school called Hogwarts along with other bright witches and wizards of his day. This man, you see, was very persuasive and handsome. Soon he had gathered a following, and all began to fall. For you see, Tom was not a Light wizard; no, only the Dark did he see, only shadows. Long years did he hold the country in fear of his latest name: Lord Voldemort. My parents were beginning to feel his shadow, oppressive as it was. My father, well, my father was a prankster like no other at Hogwarts. My mother didn't even acknowledge him until their fifth year." Cian gave a wry chuckle at the borrowed memories.

"A woman would deny a man?"

"In this day and age?"

"Will you hear my tale or not?" Cian snapped, hating to be interrupted. They shut up immediately and he sighed as he ran a hand through his now unbraided hair. He redid it slowly as he continued the tale, securing the end tightly once more. "My mother denied all conventions and was friends with a wizard all others called Dark. She knew without her friendship, the wizard would go there; to Lord Voldemort's side and serve him well. This wizard was adempt at creating new spells and potions. Lord Voldemort wanted him badly, perhaps a bit too zealously. When this wizard (we'll call him the Half-Blood Prince) used a horrible word on my mother, (forcing her away from him for her own safety) she never spoke to him again. But I digress; my father got my mother to speak with him and eventually, she married him."

"Is that all?" Marcus yawned, wiping his steel grey eyes.

"No! You are not even paying attention, are you?" Cian sighed as he prodded the fire with a stick.

"I was, Cian. Please continue; perhaps the idiot will fall asleep." Esca protested softly, his honey brown eyes still locked onto him.

"At least someone was paying attention. I was born in the summer, a moon and a sennight shy of Beltane a year after they bonded. A prophecy was made about a boy; there were two boys who fit it. Would you like to hear it?" Esca nodded and Cian cleared his throat.

" The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches  
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies  
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

"Such a depressing prophecy. Who made it?" Cian grimaced as he thought back to that day nearly three years ago. It no longer hurt to remember the day of Sirius's death, but it still pulled a few heartstrings.

"A witch by the name of Sybil Trelawney. But onward with my tale, yes?" And so he continued, leaving nothing out, for these men were strangers in the very least. Esca paced when he mechanically recited what had happened with the Dursleys, while he barely whispered of the years after Sirius's death. Marcus gave him a soft look as he finished strongly with his Potions accident.

"Such a life... It is lonely, no?" Esca finally asked, sitting down after pacing for the hundredth time.

"Indeed. Harsh, yet filled with friendship most can never dream of, Cian of the Magis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending A/N: Whew... This is a lot harder to write than I thought it would be.


	3. Of Horses and Seals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, folks, new chapter! I know, I know, you're like; 'hey, where's the other updates?' Bear with me and my nonsense. As always enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait, I own my Muses! Ha!
> 
> WARNING: There is Slash, so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ! Oh, and there's wanking. :3

* * *

Esca was surprised that Cian was still so open after all that had happened to him. Neglect by blood kin, absent & dangerous adventures and death; so much that even the death of his own father could not compare. Cian laughed as the Lybian stallion, Cornix, flung cold lochwater at him.

"Great silly beast you are, Cornix." The horse snorted, shaking himself off and the water landed on Cian. The tanned skin was littered with many scars, some from battles, some from his 'adventures', and some from his kin... If they could be called that. Beads of water slid down the enticing skin, as though caressing the muscles that worked to hold the high-spirited stallion in place.

"Do you need help with him, Cian?" He asked before his thoughts caught up with his mouth.

"Yes, surprisingly. He's being stubborn today." Cian grunted as he tugged down Cornix for the fifth time in a row. "Hold his headstall, please." The cloth was carefully weilded, scrubbing away lather from the worn points in Cornix's hair where the saddle rubbed. The stallion shivered, but held still other than that.

It took all afternoon to clean the horses. Marcus limped out and even helped with his own, the temperamental black that occasionally answered to Necromance. Even Cian, with his ability to soothe most animals, could not calm the willful mare. Marcus hissed, limped up to her, and popped her on her cheek, whispering soft threats and praise.

"She'll behave now." Cian patted her as he finished with her legs, reducing the slight swelling in her knees; she gifted the Mage with a slobbering lick.

"Eww! Call that behavin', do ya? Yuck! Now I have to bathe... Yes, you're welcome Necromance. Don't do that again, hmm?" Green eyes held laughter as Cian patted the mare dry and hobbled her before sending her out to pasture along with the other two. Seemingly without a care, the Mage stripped all the way, hanging his leathers carefully out of the way of the water. With a whoop, he jumped into the deep loch, coming up soaking wet. "Ya joinin' me then?" The question was aimed at him, as it was in Gaelic. Cian swam like a Kelpie, effortlessly slicing through the water with deft strokes. Once chest-deep, the glorious black locks were set free, floating in the water like a vision from the Horned One. He stripped and join him, washing as fast as he could, his eyes never straying from the languid poses that Cian seemed to do as natural as breathing. "See somethin' ya like?" Esca flushed lightly, turning his gaze away from the breath-taking visage of the wizard.

"I apologize... It's unseeming of me. I will not repeat such behav-Eh?" Slim, firm fingers tilted his jaw up so that he had to look into Cian's green eyes. They held amusement and a hunger that he'd seen only in women after his title of Chieftan; this hunger seemed aimed at him and him alone.

"I didna say I minded, Chieftan of the Brigantes. I would like for my first time to be with both of you, but I didna think it possible." Esca's mind ran through the various positions, his face flushing as his aching hardness twitched at the thought of Marcus taking Cian from behind and him watching. "Need help with that?" The laughter was short-lived as Cian wrapped a callused hand around his hot erection and tugged, sliding a thumb over his slit and softly tracing his veins.

"Wh-Goddess that feels good..."

"Mmm, glad you like it." Cian purred, his grip shifting in the now warm water. Hot lips claimed his then nibbled on his throat. "You know... Marcus is watching us." That pulled a moan from him as he thrust his hips against Cian's hand wrapped around him. "Mmm, I want to taste you." The words, coupled with a rough bite to his throat had him coming in spasms. He leaned against Cian, reflecting in the post-coital bliss that the Mage had been named quite accurately.

"Wa-Was he really watching?" A warm chuckle followed his hesitant question and Esca felt ashamed suddenly. "I was convienent roll in the water." Again the slim fingers caught his chin, forcing it up.

"No, not a roll in the water." Cian's warm tongue swiped over the bruise that was forming. "Far from it, Esca. I was marking my territory." He was not chattel! How dare- Another warm chuckle had him stopping in mid-thought. "Not like chattel, my firey one. It is so that others will not touch what I consider precious." Caressing fingers fanned into his hair, massaging his scalp in a most pleasant way. "Do you understand?"

"How did you know what I was thinking?" A soft smile lit up Cian's face.

"Your expression gave you away, Esca. It was actually cute."

"Cute? I'll show you cute, Magis!" With a war-cry, he tackled Cian farther into the loch. "How about now?"

"Mmm, maybe I should make you angry more often, my firey one. Now I want to take you against the sand, watch as you go over the edge..." Esca stopped halfway to shore, turning to face Cian with wide eyes. "Oh, yes. I did say that." The grin was just short of predatory.

"Amourous bastard, aren't we?" He grumbled gently as they dried off with rushes.

**-PoV-**

Marcus watched with wide eyes as the two Britons frolicked and had done something, in front of him. It was like he wasn't even there! The predatory look that Cian had subjected his slave to scorched his insides, making him squirm as they walked up, chatting amicably.

"Have your fun?" He inquired sourly, rubbing his knee as it throbbed. Cian's green eyes narrowed as they locked onto his knee.

"Why didn't you say anything?" The normally warm voice was now chilly. "It's infected, you idiot! Do you want to die on this quest? Esca, my bag, please?" By turns the Mage was quietly furious and loudly raging. "You're lucky I've a good knowledge of herbs, fool. It is pure folly that could kill you slowly and painfully!" He pulled off the bandage, exposing the yellow and red, quite swollen wound. "A stick, Esca." The stick was produced, and handed over. "You, bite down on it. We don't want the Seal hunting us down; even if we haven't done anything yet and are not even on their land." A wave of Cian's hand cleared away the pus and crusts that had started to form. That hurt like a bitch and Marcus bit down on the stick, his scream muffled. "I am sorry, Marcus." Cool fingers carded through his sweaty hair and he looked up to see his slave doing it, soothing him enough into relaxing. Cian packed pulped herbs into his wound and appeared to conjure clean bandages. The method was far different and supported his knee while allowing the wound to breathe. "You can spit out the stick now. I apologize for not paying attention to it sooner. There will be a large scar, but you won't be limping anymore." There was genuine contriteness in the expressive green eyes.

"Thank you. The healer said otherwise." That brought a smile from Cian.

"Yes, well, he didn't have access to a wizard who happens to be rather good at healing."

* * *

After tending to his wound (daily now, as Cian insisted upon seeing it), they ate what they caught and travelled farther. He was beginning to think this quest foolish, Necromance following Cornix as they trotted from one village to the next. They found that when Cian offered his healing services, the information flowed out of grateful patients. One such lead had them going through a forest.

"I think she lied, Cian."

"No-Watch out!" With a terrifying whip of green fire, Cian caught a black blur that was headed straight for him. The Mage descended into rapid Briton, apparently cursing the thing out faster than even Esca could keep up.

**-PoV-**

The thing turned out to be a Ninth deserter called Guern. Cian watched him warily, his magic crackling about him as the man explained to Marcus. Esca looked like he knew the outcome was different.

"Esca, do not lie to Marcus. He has suffered enough." He said heavily in Gaelic, understanding how Marcus felt.

"My father did not survive... But my Uncle did. Your father went down last. He was fighting until he died on a Seal spear." Tears skimmed the steel-grey, not falling due to his pride in the presence of a fellow Roman, if Guern could be called such. After Guern left, the tears spilled as Marcus faced away from them to stare blankly at the forest. Cian wrapped his arms around Marcus's waist, silently offering comfort to the distraught Roman.

"Thank you. I would have hurt him otherwise." Cian chuckled softly as he buried his face between the broad, taunt shoulders.

"Am I your sounding-board?" He teased gently, snuggling further into Marcus as he relaxed.

"Yes. You seem to be able to calm mine and Esca's temper. Why is that?" He laughed this time, shaking his head.

"Magis secret; not telling. Why do I get the feeling that if I wasn't here, you two'd be in big trouble?"

"Probably because we would have been." Of course, it was that Potter-troublemaking luck that hit the moment after Marcus said that. A blue-fletched arrow stabbed into the ground next to them. Cian silently and wandlessly cast the Translation and Speech Charms right before the Seal came into their camp.

"You are on Seal land; what purpose brings you amongst us?" He huffed and straightened his cloak, checking to make sure his face wasn't visible as he pulled the tough guy routine.

"Hmph. Rude, are we? I thought a trade of skills would be welcome. Apparently not."

"You are?"

"I am of the Magis Clan. If you do not wish for a trading of skills, we will leave your land." Cian answered, his inner Marauder warning his that he had to get this right the first time around.

"And the others?"

"Chieftan of the Brigantes and my assistant."

"Acceptable. What skills do you wish to impart?" The Seal leader had fallen for it; hook, line, and sinker.

"Healing techniques and a new way to sharpen your spears."

"Willingly given?"

"Again, most rude. Brigantes, perhaps we should take our skill elsewhere." Esca had caught on, as had Marcus.

"Indeed, Magis. We would be most welcome amongst my own Clan." Marcus folded his arms and managed to look intimidating as he stood straight.

"I apologize, Magis and Brigantes. You are welcome in my father's tent. Will you be participating in our warrior run?"

"We will join; on a condition."

"It is?"

"My assistant is to be left alone. He is still a warrior despite his wound and will reply in kind."

"Is he mute?"

"No. He merely remains silent as a warming for those who wish to renege on my condition."

"Fair enough."

**-PoV-**

Marcus watched and kept quiet as he now understood exactly what they were saying all of a sudden. He suspected Cian of allowing him to play along as the strong, silent warrior assistant. He watched as Cian beat the warriors easliy, allowing him time to limp around the camp, a brooding mask in place for those who dared to look him in the eye. Marcus finally found it; it was covered in heathen symbols and feathers.

"It's a prize won from the bastard Romans." One of the women cheerfully informed him, interest in her dull brown eyes. He was not to be swayed by anything other than bright green; which was a shocking fact. When had Cian gone from mere annoyance to potential lover? Was it when he tended his wounds? When he protected him from the hostile glares of the Seal? He spoke softly, almost failing to keep the sneer out of his voice.

"As opposed to insulting my friends?" Her eyes widened to an unpleasant degree and he turned away from her.

"You are not interested in a roll in the grass? You should say so, Magis assistant." She pouted with what could have been an attractive moue had he liked women anymore. "We could move it to my bedding?"

"No."

"No?" He folded his arms and deliberately stared at the Eagle. "Tell me, is he as flexible as he looks?" Marcus whipped around, a growl escaping his throat. His knee protested the rough movement, but he was defending Cian, who would most likely fix it.

"You will not speak of my friend that way, woman! Making assumptions when you do not get what you want; it only exacerbates the problem!" He snarled, beyond incensed at her insinuating tone. His tone dropped to nearly conversational, then threatened her quietly as he looked back towards the symbol of the Ninth. "He is my Healer and a good friend. Speak of him again, woman, and you'll find out exactly why I was retired."

"Maelgwyn, what have I told you about your knee?" Cian's voice brought release of the tension Marcus had known he was feeling.

"That bitch was insulting you, Cian." He said lowly as the Mage pulled apart the knee bandage, cleaning it out and packing it with soft moss before rewrapping it.

"I know. I honestly don't care. I'm used ta it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending A/N: I finally got back my Esca/Harry/Marcus Muses! They're co-operating with me for the first time in ages and ages. Whoot!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Looky, another chapter! Words marked with one of these (*) is a way to tell you to look down at the Ending AN for info. Bear with me and my nonsense. As always enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait, I own my Muses! Ha!
> 
> WARNING: There is Slash, so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ! Smut in this chapter for those of you who were waiting for it. If not, just skip it, people; I write these for me as well as you. 
> 
> Italics-Flashback or stressed words

* * *

Cian fixed Marcus's knee and turned around to stare at his 'competition.' Dull brown was paired with a blonde mop so tangled it would take months to work through them, let alone card fingers through it.

"So? Are you into that Roman pervertedness?" Cian merely raised his eyebrow and snorted. "I will tell the Chieftan." That caused him to laugh.

"Whilst you are rolling about in stolen Roman sheets and being impaled drunkenly?" The woman screeched, her face turning a mottled white and red. "I speak only truth, wench."

"I swear revenge on Her."

"And I swear upon mine own Goddess, Magyck herself, that if you seek it upon those I consider mine... Then you will suffer my wrath. A bit of advice; do not mess in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger." He toyed with his staff, a tall thing made of black bog wood and emeralds embedded into it. He'd discovered that the modern witch or wizard had managed to put their focus into a single core; such was not the case with him. His final magical power-boost at the age of twenty-one was terrifying and he'd had to ride it out... Alone. It was why the Romans beyond the Wall feared him.

**-PoV-**

Marcus watched with awe as Cian began to glow a bright green. The wench hissed like a rusted blade against a whet stone, her brown eyes no longer dull or even focused on him.

"So, a wizard, eh? We eat wizard for breakfast." The tone was frightening as it was no longer shy or shrewd; it was deadly, plain and simple.

"Do ya now? We're guests of your precious Chieftan's son." This reminder seemed to cause her to choke on her next sentence.

"You persuaded him to take you in as guests?"

"Yes and no, wench. An honest trade of skills. The Seal technique for skinning animals has been longed after in my tribe for centuries. The Magis healing is the best there is." Cian ceased to glow, although his eyes still crackled with a warning. The woman opened her mouth, then closed it again as the legitimate reason set back her plans for whatever it was she planned on doing to Cian.

"Damn you!"

"Ahh, I love honorable intentions." Cian said, laughing as he offered his arm to him. Marcus took it, his knee beginning to throb again.

_**-Modern Day Britain; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-** _

_**-PoV-** _

Remus stared out the window, lost in thought as his mind traveled back to the time right after Harry had discovered the Romulus Potion.

**-FLASHBACK-**

_"Remus, Remus!" Harry ran straight into him with a loud, "Oof!"_

_"What's got you all excited, cub?" He asked, prying his excited pseudo-godson from his frame._

_"I found a cure!" He frowned, holding Harry at arms' length._

_"For what, cub?"_

_"Your... Your furry little problem." Remus's jaw dropped as it clicked in his mind what Harry had just said. "I was reading Salazar Slytherin's journals that Snape owns and it was there! In Parseltongue, but it's a cure!"_

**-END FLASHBACK-**

He'd fainted, of course. A cure for the problem that had plagued him for years? And hidden amongst a Founder's journals? Remus'd had to be convinced and shown the recipe. When Harry had disappeared while making the potion for him and several others; he'd forbidden anyone else from touching it. That hadn't worked, as he was now cured and content to be a wolf Animagus.

_**-Over Hadrian's wall; circa 140 A.D.-** _

_**-PoV-** _

Esca watched as the argument escalated into near violence. Since when had his supposed "Master" gained feelings for Cian? But there it was in plain sight, shining out mutely from those familiar steel grey eyes.

"Maelgwyn, you and I need to talk."

"Cian?" The Mage simply chuckled before waving them off.

**-PoV-**

Had Esca noticed? Was the affection he now had for their Mage showing? Many questions flew throughout Marcus's thoughts as they stopped in front of a cliff. Esca sat on the edge and Marcus a few cubits* from him.

"You hold affection for Cian." Blunt was not what he'd expected. "Is it true? Or a passing... phase?"

"Phase? No! I fell- It's complicated." A brow rose in question to his last statement. Marcus crossed his arms and sighed heavily.

"How? In what way?" Esca snapped out, his hand smoothing his tawny hair. Marcus ran a hand through his own much-longer chesnut locks.

"Why do you need to know?" He fired back, his chest tightening as he was being questioned.

"I care for the Mage... Deeply. I want what is best for him. If that is you, so be it." The honest confession and love he saw in Esca threw him off his vengeful state of mind. The honey-brown locked with his grey again, as though searching for something.

"It was a lot of things, if you simply must know. The way he sticks his tongue out when he's concentrating on something... he ruffles his hair, as though he's just been having sex... his eyes light up when he's done something right..."

"The way he stares at you, like you're the only one that matters." Esca whispered, a soft smile on his face. Marcus nodded, the tightness in his chest receding.

"Yes, all those things and more." Cian chose that moment to appear on the hill behind them and call them in.

"Maelgwyn, Brigantes! The hunters are back!"

"Coming, Magis!" They said as they stood.

* * *

Eating with the Seal turned out to be hazardous for one's health. Food was flying everywhere; even sharp pieces of bone. Esca and Marcus looked at one another, then at Cian, who deftly dodged the flying objects with careless ease and even lobbed a few back.

"So, Brigantes, my wench tells me you're especially skilled at hunting elk. Care to join our hunt?" The thick hand on Esca's shoulder caused the man to wince as it tightened.

"Clan leader, if you would take your hand off my friend?" Marcus found himself saying softly, a threat behind his words. The entire tent silenced as the Seal Chieftan looked at him then back at Esca.

"Your friend?"

"Yes." He answered shortly, narrowing his eyes.

"You've an alliance with both Clans then?" He snarled under his breath then replied once more with the same answer.

"Yes."

"Ah! Good, good!" The laughter and joviality returned as the Seal Chieftan let go of Esca's shoulder. His slave (he was quite honestly thinking about freeing him anyway) scooted closer to him.

"I thank you for that. My shoulder is probably bruised from his rough grip and Cian will have to look at it tonight."

"It's no problem. You're mine and I'll not have you harmed." Honey-brown flashed with hot fire and Marcus felt his cheeks burning as it made him half hard.

"Yours?" Esca hissed out, outrage bright in his eyes.

"I have been thinking long on this journey. You'll hear what I have to say later. I beg of you, drop this subject for now." He pleaded softly, almost purring against his slave's throat.

"Fine."

**-PoV-**

Esca waited until Cian went out for more firewood until he approached his "Master."

"What did you mean in the tent earlier? And why were you so close when you said it?"

"I have been thinking about freeing you." His breath caught in his throat as the tantalizing offer hung in the air. "I, Marcus Flavius Aquila, free Esca of the Brigantes Clan. I am sorry, my friend, for even keeping you in that tyrannical state." Steel grey showed genuine remorse as they left his own brown. "As for your... other question, I cannot answer you that."

"No! As my friend, answer me with honesty!" He fired back, irate now. Quick steps brought the suddenly burning steel grey boring into his own honey-brown.

"It is... complicated. Please, I beg of you, do not ask me that again." Marcus's voice was rough and had dropped to a lower pitch that went straight to his groin. The Goddess had certainly created this man for seducing...

"I will until you give me an honest answer."

"..."

"I can wait with endless patience as well."

"I cannot." Came the short reply, coupled with pacing in front of his bedding.

"Why?" Esca was merciless, prodding at the caged lion that was his friend. "Why can you not answer me with honesty?"

"I wish to keep you as a friend. If I answer with my heart instead of with my head-I have said too much already." The underlying message clicked within his brain and it was shocking. Marcus apparently had feelings for them both. "I will set up my own-Mmm?" Esca gathered his courage and kissed Marcus, sliding his tongue along the groove of Marcus's soft lips, asking for entrance.

**-PoV-**

He opened his mouth, allowing Esca's hot tongue to tangle with his own. After a few moments, he pulled back, gasping against Esca's exposed neck.

"Where-Where did you learn how to do that?" He panted out, laving at taunt neck muscles as he regained his breath. Esca arched into his hesitant touch as he pulled the Briton tightly against his body.

"Cian! Goddess, what are you doing?" Came the nearly breathless reply, followed by a wanton moan. He pushed his Brit down onto the soft bedding and rocked his hips against Esca's.

"Mmm, giving you what you want..." He groaned back, nipping a trail down the slender, pale body "Gods, you taste delicious." He muttered against Esca's hip-bone as he nibbled on it.

"Please... I don't think I can-" Esca snarled as he pulled away at a rustle of the tent's flap.

"Shh... I hear something." Cian's chuckle had them blushing as they took in each other's debauched state.

"No, go right ahead. I set up a silencing spell. I like how you talk sweet, Marcus."

"Would you like to watch?" Esca looked horrified after the words came out. Cian came in and purred lustily.

"Just the invite I was looking for." Now with the object of their affections watching, it felt forbidden almost. "Continue where you left off." Marcus nibbled back down, coming so close to Esca's need, but never touching it.

"Marcus, if ya don't touch it soon, I'm gonna get Cian to..." He growled lowly and captured Esca's lips before thrusting his hips down and then back up. "Oh, Goddess..." Marcus bit down sharply on a pale hip, kitten-licking it as his hands undid the rough wool breeches.

"Someone was hiding this... gorgeous length from me." He licked the reddened tip, almost like a sweet. Slender fingers burrowed into his hair, tightening as he licked again.

"Ahn... What are you doing?" He felt more than heard Cian kissing where he'd nibbled. "I can't take much more..."

"Good. Then I want a taste of Marcus if he's having a taste of you." Esca sat up suddenly, releasing his hair.

"Tease! Marcus, please?" He obliged, taking the tip into his mouth and rolling the pre-come around in his mouth. The taste was something he wanted more of though... "Ohh, Goddess, not again..." Marcus purred and swallowed more of Esca's length, still not satisfied. He let go with a wet 'pop', when warm heat surrounded his own cock, yelping as he did so. Esca kissed him brutally as he gripped his hips. "You're not finished." So for the third time, he settled around the beautiful, still slightly wet cock jutting up from soft curls. He swallowed all of it, the thick tip sliding down his throat with ease. He hummed around it, causing Esca to shiver and tighten the grip in his hair.

**-PoV-**

Warm heat slid around his cock for the third time; Marcus swallowed all of him. He created a rhythm, watching as he slid in and out of those soft red lips. Marcus hummed, sending shocks of pleasure to the base of his spine and back up his body. He was at the perfect angle to watch Cian swallow Marcus's cock, which was the largest, then allowing him to mouth-fuck him. The sight also served to speed up his rhythm and turn him on even further. When he saw Cian was also preparing himself? He lost it in a tidal-wave of white.

When his vision returned, it was to a sight he'd only imagined. Cian was on all fours, being taken from behind like an animal by Marcus, moaning as his green eyes locked with his honey-brown.

"Need... Ahn... you inside like... Marcus!" Cian purred as he rammed his hips against Marcus's. "Now!" Esca mounted Cian, rubbing the slick entrance but not quite entering. Marcus wasn't playing games and tugged sharply on his erection, directing it to the glistening pink entrance. With a single thrust, his cock was inside that heat, and rubbing alongside Marcus's length. They kissed as their rhythm hit, matching stroke for stroke as they rode Cian to a blinding climax.

* * *

Morning brought in weak sunlight that filtered into the tent and alit on Cian's back, bathing him in a golden glow.

"Morning, my wizard."

"Mmmghmph." Came the disgruntled reply from the pile of furs.

"I know you don't want to get up."

"But I have too?" Cian asked, rolling over with a languid push from his hands. Marcus strolled into the tent, holding a wooden board with cured venison, bread and what looked like Seal cheese. Three wooden cups sloshed slightly as he settled amongst the furs close to Cian.

"I hope you would break fast with us this morning, Cian. Only the Seal women are up at this gods-forsaken hour." Marcus said, putting a slice of venison onto a piece of bread and offering it to Cian. "The porridge looked... burnt this morning." This caused Cian to laugh at Marcus's disgruntled expression and take the bread, popping it into his mouth with remarkable ease.

**-PoV-**

Cian chewed on the food, reaching for one of the cups and sniffing the contents.

"Clear streamwater, Cian. I got it myself." Marcus chuckled softly over the rim of his own cup. He swallowed and let the water wash it down fully.

"So what are you doing up at this hour?"

"Centurion training. We awoke at dawn, donned our uniforms and ran for about a league." Marcus's broad hand massaged his knee as his steel grey eyes misted over with remembered times. Cian rolled his eyes and Summoned his Healer's kit, unswathing Marcus's knee. He was surprised to see it mostly healed; the scar was a healthy pink and even showing new skin growth. His mind went through what could have healed it so much in only a few hours and he blushed. "What's making you flush like that, my little Mage?"

"My magic healed you... When we were..." He trailed off, his mind going back over the night they'd had.

"Last night? Why?" Steel grey and honey-brown were curious now, following him as he took another piece of bread, this time with cheese on top, and chewed slowly.

"It's a specific type of magic; Magus Erotica." Marcus snickered. "It's not funny."

"As you say, amore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending A/N: Whew. Long chapter; hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. PM me if you have any questions!~ ^^;
> 
> *cubits- the distance from your middle finger to your elbow; ancient form of measurement used for centuries


	5. Mission Accomplished: Now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wrote this listening to a couple of songs. Words marked with one of these (*) is a way to tell you to look down at the Ending AN for info. Bear with me and my nonsense. As always enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait, I own my Muses! Ha!
> 
> WARNING: There is Slash, so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ! Smut in this chapter for those of you who were waiting for it. If not, just skip it, people; I write these for me AND you. Oh, and lots of cursing.

* * *

Marcus watched with distant steel eyes as Cian stripped down to his woolen breeches and slathered blue clay upon himself. He didn't see why his Mage had to defile his soft skin to fit in with the Seal hunters... Esca's hand on his shoulder had him pulling his newly _acquired_ broadsword from his back and taking his whet stone from his hip bag slung haphazardly over his chest. He sharpened the sword until the blade gleamed in the dusk.

"You're a great one for sharpening, mute one." A grizzled warrior pointed out as he oiled the blade and wiped it down.

"Hmph, you're a fine one to talk." He propped out his knee before him, wincing as the scar stretched beyond it's normal capability.

"What caused it?"

"Chariot spike."

"Which side?"

"Does it matter? I ended up an outcast either way, old warrior." He huffed, putting away his cleaning materials.

"Not really. Your healer any good?"

"Yes." He smiled softly, rubbing his knee, stretching the skin as he moved it back and forth.

"She must be beautiful." Marcus scowled at the thought of sleeping with anyone but Cian. "I jest."

"You'd do well to keep your thoughts away from my healer." He sheathed the claymore, standing with the scowl still on his face.

"Possessive; you've been apart too long."

"Not enough time together." Marcus threw back as a parting shot.

* * *

Fleeing a mere three hours later, he thanked Cian for healing his knee faster than normal.

"What did you do?" He asked harshly in Latin, relieved to be speaking his mothertongue once more.

"Oh, stunned them all with magic and stole the Eagle standard. Nothing big."

"Nothing big? _**Nothing big?!**_ You've set them after us!" Esca snarled, clearly still in the Briton tongue.

"Why am I still able to understand you?" Marcus asked, pulling Necromance close to Cornix, neck to neck.

"Spells. Those cast with my staff have more power than those without it."

"Ah. I didn't question it earlier due to being in their-Duck!" A blue-ended blur shot directly where Cian's head had been a scant moment earlier. "We have to move faster!"

"My horse is tiring." Esca said after they picked up the pace. "We've got two choices; leave the horses, plural, or just leave mine and I'll join Cian on Cornix." Cian looked to be mulling it over and maneuvered Cornix next to the white geldling.

"We're leaving Alba. He's more easily recognized. It's how they've been tracking us. Cornix is faster than your horses, but ol' Necromance can keep up due to her Arabian blood stock. Get on." Esca crouched on Alba's saddle and jumped, landing on Cornix with some difficulty. "Alba, divert." Cian's eyes glowed as he commanded the geldling to split off from their group, which reared and took off as though scalded by fire, normally brown eyes burning an eltritch gold that streamed out behind it. "They're catching up."

 **-PoV-**

Esca was normally quite happy to travel; especially if it meant more time with his new-found lovers. Now? Now all he wanted to do was sleep and he couldn't even do that. Cian took guard as they ate their meal in dead silence, huddling about the tiny fire for warmth. Marcus was next and Cian curled up underneath the furs with him, cold to the touch. He rubbed his Mage's limbs, allowing them to warm up and gain color again.

"Mmphgrph." Cian muttered as he buried his face into Esca's shoulder, warming his nose as he cuddled close. "Cold."

"Aye, it is. Poor Marcus looks like an icicle."

"Stupid Seal... Having their enchanment breakers, chasing us 'cross the countryside so I can't even get a decent bearing..." Esca sighed, holding the lithe body close, and murmuring sweet nothings into the thick black hair as he rubbed up and down Cian's back. Their Mage was asleep within seconds, the deep breaths the only give-away he could think of as Cian slept on.

The next morning saw them back into Guern's territory and sliding from one hiding space to another. The yelps of the Seal hunt dogs had diminished and stopped the nearer the boarder they got. Hard traveling left them gritty, sore, and tired beyond belief but they were so close to crossing the Wall.

* * *

The Seal caught up with them as they rested; eliciting a string of curses both Latin and Gaelic to come from Cian's mouth, half of them colorful and physically impossible."You thrice-bedamned, tree-fucking, cazzo-sucking bastards need to take a hike and fuck yourself into submission!" 

The green whip was back as well as the staff whirling in an unfamiliar pattern, speeding up until it was a black and green blur that whined at high pitch. They fought dirty; Cian most of all, dancing with deadly grace through the macabre battle as if it were a daily occurrence, moving in a way that made for a very strange battle style. The deserters of the Ninth showed up halfway through the battle, throwing themselves with Roman abandon onto the Seal warriors. Cian was locked in battle with the Seal Prince, teeth bared in a heavy snarl as the oaken club met the black bog staff, both of them connecting with a resounding crack. Neither man gave quarter as Cian began to glow and radiate power.

"Witchcraft!"

"Aye, an' what's there ta say I can't? There's no rules for battle, now is there?" With that barbed quip, Cian pulled back and met the Seal Prince again, only the club cracked in half and burst into flames. Their Mage ground his staff into the ground and pulled out a short sword to combat the large skinning knife that was suddenly headed for him. Esca lost Cian as a Seal tribesman attacked him head-on, causing him to jump back and shoot an arrow point-blank into the warrior's face. The battle raged on, blood spattering his tunic as he waltzed through the bloody masquarade with disquieting ease.

**-PoV-**

Cian leaned against his staff, poking at the bandaged scratch on his cheek. The battle was long over; the dead had been respectfully brought back to the Clan and buried properly.

"Leave it alone, little Mage." Esca sighed as they stared out at the setting sun.

"It's the pair of you who should be relaxing." He replied mildly, green eyes soft and loving as Marcus draped over him.

"When you are not, my healer?"

"I am perfectly fine, you idiota. It is you who needs rest." Marcus chuckled, lifting him up into his arms and walking back to their tent, settling him down and spooning his back. Esca curled up against his front and he was lulled to sleep.

_**-Circa 141 A.D. Londinium-** _

His boots made no sound as they strode along the marble right up to where the triumvirate's son sat, making plans for provision caravans. Marcus had the Eagle standard, held high for all to see by an intricately carved staff; Cian was rather proud of that little bit of magic. He and Esca flanked Marcus as he strode right up to the desk.

"I have the Eagle." All of the officers and government officials stopped talking.

"How? How did-three?- three men get what an entire legion lost?"

"With a bit of help from our very own Mage." He leaned on his staff, adopting a bored look as he let his eyes wander across the overly complex ceiling molds.

"Mage? You accomplished this with witchcraft?"

"Only a little, Triumvirate. The Seal people are rather vicious when something is stolen from them, you know." Cian answered, still not deigning to pay the man any attention. "Must we stay, luv?" The governor's eyes widened at his drawled accent, making the warding sign over his heart.

"No. We've delivered the standard."

"Could we perhaps-"

"Get someone else to do it." Esca snarked, wrapping an arm around Marcus's shoulder, while Marcus was content wrapping an arm around his waist. They burst into laughter as they collected the horses and started on a new adventure.

**-PoV-**

Marcus sighed as the bandages were pulled away from his knee for the last time.

"There. That's all that magic can heal, daor amháin." Cian murmured as he kissed the scar. Esca followed suit, pressing a light kiss to it as he sat in their tent, the flap open to let in the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EndingA/N: Whew. Another chapter is done! I am the master of late, lame chapters and understatement! Feed my ego. I keep reading Transformer fics... Damn Darkeyes17 for being so good of a writer.


	6. Home is Where the Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one's for SuperEagle; he'll know why. He brought my Esca and Marcus Muses back from my mind. I realized I've made some mistakes in languages and for that I apologize for my previous chapters! Gah, why does it have to be languages? Cian is actually the word for remote (barren, out very far away)... Oops. Wrote this out listening to a few songs. Bear with me and my nonsense. As always, enjoy the voyage ladies and gents!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait! I own my Muses! Ha!
> 
> WARNING: There is Slash, so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ! Oh, and SEX. Yeah, that lovely three-letter word that most of you either go squick or read anyway. It's been marked so you can skip it, if that's not what you came here for! And... And, guess what? That horrifying five letter acronym as well; M-PREG.
> 
> P.S. READ ME FIRST! Harry will be referred to as both Cian (remote in Gaelic) and his own name this chapter. Hope that tickles your senses, folks!

* * *

Cian rolled over and encountered empty air. He groaned lowly as Esca came in, followed by Marcus, who looked absolutely soaked. "You dunked me while I was trying to catch that fish!"

"We got it, dinna we?"

"Stubborn Briton..." Cian yawned, his jaw cracking as he brushed out his hair and rebraided it. "You're awake."

"Mmm. You know I don't like sleeping alone anymore." Soft grey eyes shared a glance with honey-brown before they cleaned and gutted the large salmon out of range. Esca sat with his legs wrapped around Cian's as he carved a small wooden figure with his knife. "Get off, ya heavy beast." His Briton lover merely snuggled closer and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Fine, you can stay. Just don't use those shameless puppy eyes on me again." Esca chuckled, crooning lowly as he mapped out Cian's shoulders with little nips and kisses.

"Have you started without me, amore?" Marcus purred as he stepped inside their tent. "Naughty Britons..."

The dawn filtered through the opening in an eerie reminiscence of the Seal Camp. Cian curled closer to Marcus, sighing as Esca nosed the love-bite he'd made.

"Esca... You really are insatiable."

"It's only because you're entirely too luscious." came the lustful response.

"Leave off already. Marcus?" The Roman purred as he kissed Esca open-mouthed, their tongues sliding over each other in a battle for dominance. Marcus won easily as he rolled to pin the Clan Leader. "That's hot but way too early for me after more than three rounds last night..."

* * *

When he awoke again, he was lying in a soft bed, a shouted argument the cause of his aware state.

"You'll not have that Mage in my House! I took you in because you are family! That Briton was once your-"

"Do not say what you are about to, Uncle. Cian healed my knee; I am ready to serve once more. As for my beloved... How dare you? He saved my life; Esca took an arrow when it was meant for me on the battlefield! Never again insult what I hold dear. Cian, did our argument awaken you?" Marcus hissed defensively before asking him, sweeping him into a soft embrace.

"Somewhat, luv. What's this about hospitality? We will stay with Esca's tribe, if that is your Uncle's wish. You can visit us." he soothed the wild-fire brewing in his Roman's eyes. "Your Uncle is the only family you have left. Enjoy him while you can, my Eagle, for I have lost my own before I could truly know them." Marcus cursed under his breath in Latin slang, and then kissed Cian's jaw softly.

"As you wish it, my Mage, though it burns my heart so." The steel gaze was molten silver, love softening the hardened exterior. Cian planted a kiss of his own on Marcus's lips, keeping it chaste. "I shall stay here and visit. Esca will not like this, my Mage. Please keep him calm." Marcus sighed as Cian was reluctantly set down.

"He is a force to reckon with, Nephew. Perhaps I... misjudged them. A fortnight is all I will allow for the moment." Cian smirked, knowing his Eagle. Esca would be proud.

**-PoV-**

Esca chuckled dryly as he heard the last part. Cian was quite manipulative when he wanted to be.

"Nicely done, my Mage. I am pleased with our Eagle as well. He played his part, even though he had no idea."

"Marcus was defending your honor. No need to hold your cards so close, Chieftain, for our Eagle speaks only truth." his dark-haired lover said slyly, a smirk on his lovely face.

* * *

They took a quiet stroll on the villa grounds watched by Marcus's Uncle as they held hands with Cian and sat to watch the sunset after the sumptuous Roman meal.

"Cian, daor amháin, you've been silent." Emerald eyes met his before staring back out at the ocean, a huge sigh leaving their little Mage.

"I have this feelin' tha' I dinna like much. It's no' exactly evil, per se, but it's no' good either." Esca and Marcus shared a look over Cian's head, nodding as they reached a conclusion.

"Do ya have ta go somewhere withou' us?" he asked the question he didn't want an answer to.

"No! No, it's no' like tha', though you're close. Mah staff's been glowin' lately an' I think we have ta go where I first appeared here." Cian answered after a moment of brooding. "Will ya come with me? I'm afraid I can't go anywhere withou' ye now."

"Amore mio, we'll follow you to the ends of the Empire and back if that's what it takes. Of course we are coming with you." Marcus murmured, stroking a tanned, calloused hand along Cian's pale cheek in a gesture of affection. Steel grey met his own honey-brown as his lover reached across to cup his chin and kiss him fiercely but only for a short time. "Lead on, modicum magum*, and we will stay by your side. Habebitis cordi tuo*."

* * *

Mounting their horses took very little time and Marcus's Uncle seemed shocked that they were leaving so soon.

"Zio, it's for the best. I promise you this." They travelled for most of the day and camped out that night, Cian becoming silent and quite broody.

"Daor amháin, you are worrying us." Esca ventured carefully, tugging softly on their little Mage's braid.

"Hmm? Oh. My magical maturity happened a few cubits from here and the aura is quite the thing to feel."

"Would it bother you if we were to go there?"

"No, not at all." Emerald eyes glowed with an eldritch power that he'd seen only once before as they walked closer to the grove. "Mmm, it's here." The sight of it was awe-inspiring, the tallest tree in what seemed to be perpetual bloom and the area glowing a deep green.

"It's Goddess-touched." he breathed softly, scooping Cian up and laying him down on the glowing white and gold flowers. He planted loving kisses all along his little Mage's throat and gently pulled away the favored green tunic. Esca paid special attention to the man who had done so much for him, tracing a path with his tongue to draw wanton moans from his dark-haired lover.

"Nngh... Esca! Please!" The moan spurred Esca on to greater ministrations, both of them panting as he slicked his first finger and stroked Cian's prostate slowly. "Ahhhh... Too slow..."

"Sa, sa daor amháin I will take care of you." Despite his beloved's pleas, he took his time preparing his lover. Caresses were followed by tongue-tangling kisses and worship of the smaller man under him. By the time his little Mage was long past ready he entered with a single forward thrust, causing Cian's back to arch to an obscene angle.

"Yesssss..." his little Mage hissed, emerald eyes flashing brightly as the glow around them increased. Esca purred as he set a fast rhythm, pleasuring his love the only thing on his mind. Beautiful moans and keening were his rewards as he switched their positions suddenly, allowing Cian to ride him with exquisite pleasure expirienced by both of them.

He sighed as he woke in the Goddess-touched glade next to his smaller lover. Cian was tucked under his chin, lush sooty lashes fluttering open as emerald eyes glanced up.

"Mmm that was fantastic Esca."

"Come, little Mage. We left Marcus to his own devices."

**-PoV-**

Cian was pleasantly sore but not too much. Esca had been extremely gentle, worshipping his body as no other had. Marcus stroked away a stray hair and tucked it behind his ear as he drew an Apparation arrangement with his staff. The guards were the same from the first time he landed, though the one with the spear cowered away from him as he wielded his staff, wincing as he drew glowing Runes into the dirt and the air.

"You'll have ta say it with me. Esca, I hope your Latin is still well-spoken." They linked hands, the staff strapped to his back, chanting lowly as he started. "Invoco elementorum virtutes invoco ut temporis, rogo concede mihi petitionem. Sicut ego, ita fiat semper." The Runes and sigils glowed a brilliant white as he poured magic into the arrangement. He closed his eyes and whispered lowly, "Take me home."

**-PoV-**

Marcus blinked as a mass of people stared at all three of them.

"Cian," he gently prodded their little Mage, "Do you know where we are?" Gorgeous green eyes widened as his lover took in the huge Hall.

"Yes I do. Now, I have to figure-Oh. There they are. But they look a bit... older."

"Your friends, daor amháin?" Esca asked with the Briton endearment he was so fond of.

"I'm home. Will you be alright for a moment while I speak my own tongue?" he asked the two of them quite seriously.

"If I survived speaking the Briton tongue for nearly a sennight, I think I can handle another." Marcus chuckled, encircling Esca in his arms as Cian spoke clearly to the silent Hall...

**-PoV-**

He couldn't believe he was back! Hogwarts looked to be entirely restored and, from the looks of things, even better than before.

"Harry!" Ron, Hermione, Remus and Tonks group-hugged him, the two males twirling him like he was a light-weight.

"Ron, great Circe you've gotten tall! 'Mione, beautiful as always... Remus, did it work?" His pseudo-godfather nodded happily, pulling Tonks in for a celebratory kiss.

"I got married to Tonks. We have a cub and another one on the way. Who are the gentlemen you came in with?"

"Marcus and Esca... They're my lovers." he flashed the pair a loving smile, which they returned as they watched from a distance. "Marcus is a Roman centurion and Esca's the disowned son of the Brigantes Clan. I go by Cian with them; I spoke a lot of Gaelic and Latin. Can we get settled first? They're probably really confused..." He adored his friends, really, but Marcus and Esca had become so important to him that they came first.

"Go on then. I expect to be speaking with them to make sisterly-type threats backed with Ron's height." 'Mione shooed him off, a playful grin tugging on her lips. Marcus pulled him in and pressed Harry between Esca and himself.

"You had us worried for a moment. They seemed reluctant to let you out of their sight."

"You have no idea..."

* * *

The next three months were a huge culture-shock for his lovers. Marcus scowled at the reporters who crowded in front of their cottage in Hogsmeade. Esca merely chuckled and asked to be introduced to them before he spoke in Gaelic the entire time about absolute nonsense. Hermione was received in his home with a slight tension which diminished the minute she spoke both Latin and Gaelic.

"I do apologize about the mess. Marcus has been sharpening stakes and placing them out front. Esca's happy to fill them in on nothing at all." he murmured as he stepped around a sullen Marcus, plopping in his lap at the last second. His Roman lover crooned as he got comfortable and continued his conversation. "He doesn't like the reporters and keeps muttering about white oak and ash."

"I don't blame him; they really ought to stop camping out in your yard. So, do you mind if I speak Latin with you both?" Harry grinned, rolling his eyes at Marcus's snuggling. "What was it like back there?"

Steel grey eyes looked at her carefully before his lover replied. "Dangerous. Cian wielded his staff with great precision against the Seal Prince when we took the Eagle Standard."

"You were one of the three that took back the Standard of the Ninth?"

Oh, that opened up a lot of Marcus's more out-going points. "Cian and Esca were the other two. I couldn't stand the triumvirate's son sneering at me for my war wound." He showed Hermione the knee scar, now pink and healed over. "Until amore mio looked at it, the scar was going to be much worse."

"Harry, what did you do?"

"I might have used Magus Erotica by accident... and used tinctures that Marcus had to suffer through?" he offered weakly under her inquisitioning stare.

"That means you're a Natural Healer! Harry, do you even know how rare those are?"

"Amore, why does she call you by a different name?" Hermione had squealed out his birth name in her excitement.

"It is my birth designation. Harry is my true name, but I took Cian as it suited me better." he sighed, willing his chosen lover to understand. "I honestly don't mind either one."

"Good, because I will not call you such, amore. Cian is the name you chose to keep when you were with us."

"Daor amháin, did you really think our opinion would change just because of a name? These people of yours do not show restraint... Can you not ask them to go away?" Esca questioned softly in Latin.

"Harry is... famed amongst our Clans for killing a great adversary of our World. He doesn't like the acclaim they seek to push upon him." 'Mione explained as he relaxed into both of their touches. "I assume he told of his past."

"Indeed he did, though it seemed rather far-fetched at the time. I would seek out his... kin and do far worse to them if the Goddess did not seek to punish them Herself. He's Goddess-touched. The glade, Cian. Do you think it still stands?" He'd forgotten about the night in the glade with Esca! Hmm, was it still there?

"Most likely, Esca. The area's laced through with enough magic to keep out anything the glade doesn't want in."

"What glade are you two speaking of? The one you stumbled back from?" Marcus asked, now eagerly involved in the conversation. "I came across it in an effort to flee your... admirers, Cian. It's a quite a distance from here, but no league march." Trust his lover to think like a centurion still.

* * *

Sure enough, it was still there. Hermione gasped as Harry took the staff from his back, laid it down softly and knelt in the silence. Esca bowed his head, also kneeling under the presence.

_I see thou hast made thy way home, young Mage. Dost thine lovers seek to return?_

"Nay, great Circe. Where'er Cian is, that place becomes our home." Marcus hummed in agreement, kneeling in-between them with surprising aplomb. Hermione slowly backed away before Apparating out with a sharp crack.

 _My daughter is respectful to leave thine three in my presence. The little one inside of thou is blessed. Shouldst thou seek sanctuary, thou and thine family is most welcome._ Harry let go of his staff and placed a hand on his slightly bulged abdomen. _Thou didst not detect thine own Childe? A life very welcome in my view. Thou and thine may go, young Mage._

He genuflected before rising carefully with Marcus and Esca, picking up his staff and sealing the entrance with vines. Marcus was the first to run his hand over the child. Esca hung back before Harry grabbed his hand and placed it there, his eyes alight with warmth.

"We made this life together, Esca, and I want you to be as much a part of this as Marcus is." A little flutter had all three of them shocked. "Did you feel that?"

"Goddess... Yes."

"By the gods, I think this one will be a handful." Marcus chuckled with a smile on his tanned face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap, folks. I loved this so much. 
> 
> *modicum magum- little sorcerer (in Latin)
> 
> *Habebitis cordi tuo- You will have your heart's desire (in Latin)
> 
> Amore mio- my love (in Italian)
> 
> Daor amháin- dear one (in Gaelic)
> 
> Zio- Uncle (in Italian)
> 
> Invoco elementorum virtutes invoco ut temporis, rogo concede mihi petitionem. Sicut ego, ita fiat semper- I call upon the elements, I call upon the powers that make of time, I ask that you grant my request. As I will it, so mote it be (in Latin).


End file.
